barbarawrites is proud to present the first chapter to "CONTAIN THESE DEMONS"

TICK, TICK, TICK was the only sound of the clock inside room 408, reading the time of 11:35 PM. The only light being from the moon that peered in through the satin curtains. Submerged in the darkness, lied the one who resides within the room 408, in the sheets of cotton on what felt like a bed of nails.

Her head was placed on a pillow, eyes tracing the outlines of the room, as she tried her best to fall asleep. During the late hours is when the worst in her mind is revealed. The fears that eat her soul alive run wild as her mind slips into a world of unconsciousness.

Fears of losing the one left behind for good. Fears of not being enough to save him. Fears of those who inhabit the one place in the world she needed to protect the most.

The one who resides in room 408 had only been there for a few days. Those days felt almost like years, as she recognizes every second spent where she was, was another second that he had to spend over there.

The one who resides in room 408's only solace is in the fact that her health is regaining fast, and the promise of her leaving that room becomes clearer and clearer by the day.

•••

"Happy birthday to you~" The doctor and the nurse sang to the young girl staying in room 408. The female nurse held a small cupcake with a single candle on top of it in front of the girl, sitting up in her bed. A small grin appeared on her face as they continued. "Happy birthday to you~"

The teenager's parents entered the room, singing as well, with meek smiles on their faces. Their eyes were rimmed with dark circles from their collective lack of sleep.

"Happy birthday, dear Bo-Anne~ Happy birthday to you!" They finished, cheering for the girl.

"Make a wish and blow out your candle!" The nurse stretched her arms to hold the cupcake in range for her.

Bo-Anne's smile dropped, and she closed her eyes real tight. Taking a deep breath in, she thought of only thing she wanted more in this entire world, and she needed it to come true. More than air or water.

She held that breath for a second more, keeping his face in her mind, before letting out that wish, extinguishing the flame on top of the candle.

Her smile returned as her mother and father wrapped their arms around her in an embrace.

"Oh my sweet girl," her mother's voice began to quiver, "I know this isn't what we all had hoped your 19th birthday would look like, but you can't begin to imagine how happy I am that you're even here right now to celebrate it."

Bo's father stared at his daughter tenderly, his hand on his wife's shoulder. The nurse stood by the doctor's side as he began to switch out the warm fluids that were being pumped into Bo-Anne's system to help recover the lost temperature caused by her moderate Hypothermia.

It was the day of her final diagnosis, a treat wrapped as a birthday present from fate itself. This last test would determine her eligibility to finally leave. Although Bo was itching to get out of the Alberta Hospital, the anxiety that came with thinking about what comes afterwards was overwhelming.

She was healed of her physical ailments, but how could she move on from the pain she feels inside her heart. The pain that hurt more than a cough, more than a scratch, and more than a bullet wound was one that would be harder to cope with.

"We're going to take one last blood sample and test it before we give you the last A-Okay, alright?" The doctor stood up from his stool and put his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Bo nodded gently. He gave her a small smile, before turning around and grabbing the syringe from a tray that sat on a stool beside her bed, handing it to the nurse. He spun around and stared at a clipboard, as the nurse drew closer to Bo.

"You know the drill." The nurse smiled at her. Bo held out her arm and the nurse, in turn, poked the needle into her forearm, digging for a vein.

She couldn't watch and instead turned over to her mom who was staring at her like a bird with a broken wing. The same look she's had on her face for days.

For nine days, Bo has remained in that damn hospital room. The walls began to feel as though they were closing in on her more and more as every minute passed.

She had felt the needle being removed from her arm once again and returned her attention to the doctor who was scavenging around for a certain tool.

"Aha." He hummed to himself, picking up the glass thermometer. "Open wide." He said while smiling. Bo did as she was told, opening her mouth up. The doctor placed the tool underneath her tongue. She sat uncomfortably for a while as he observed red liquid shoot up to read her body temperature. With an even brighter smile, he pulled it back out of her mouth. "Amazing. You're temperature is back to normal, finally." He enlightened the young girl and her parents.

It was like a weight was lifted off her chest to hear that something was going normally in her life. Even if it was something as minuscule as her body temperature, it will still empowering. A little bit of Bo's confidence had returned to her.

"Does that mean I can leave?" She pleaded, her eyes widening in hope.

"It means you're chances are getting better by the minute, my dear. We still have to check your blood and make sure there's nothing abnormal about it, but you're condition is obviously way better than it was when you were first admitted." He gave her a pat on the shoulder of her hospital gown before turning to grab his clipboard. "We'll be back with the results as soon as possible. Just hang tight until then."

Both the nurse and the doctor walked out of the room, with their grins a little more brighter than when they first walked in. Which only had to be a good sign.

The first couple days she was brought in, the only expressions she ever saw was panic, worry, and fear. Hardly ever was she given a smile, or a reassuring pat. It was a constant rush to maintain Bo's life that she was in jeopardy of losing. The amount of blood, temperature, and sanity she had lost was concerning to everyone. Bo had terrifying, reoccurring nightmares every night that would cause her to scream and thrash around violently, afraid that the nightmare was never over.

Through sleeping medication, and a couple therapy sessions, she was able to dial down the awful dreams she was experiencing in only five days. Her hypothermic symptoms had reduced to flu symptoms, which had then reduced to common cold symptoms. The doctors called it a miracle, almost supernatural.

And yet, the supernatural wasn't something that was unfamiliar to Bo. There wasn't something inside her own body. Something wild and untamed, and seemingly random, however, it was reliable to get her out of any trouble. Whatever it was, it had healed Bo, that she was sure of. There was no need to fear it, or reject it, but all she wanted was the reveal of a reason behind it all.

Bo's thoughts were interrupted by her mother, holding out her phone in Bo's face, showing her something once the doctor had really left.

"You made the news this morning." She said, with a look of pride.

"They're calling you a hero." Her father butt in, a small smile on his face. "We didn't know all that you did back on that Lodge until this article came out. You saved your friends. I'm so proud of you, dear." Tears seemed to be forming in his eyes. However, he looked away before Bo could see them fall.

Her attention turned towards the article in front of her, reading the headline on the screen of her mom's phone.

"Holiday vacation from hell; Eight teenagers are terrorized on Blackwood Mountain"

The article was written by the provincial newspaper and had quotes from almost everyone except from Bo, herself, explaining the horrendous situation. She scrolled around, uninterested in hardly anything else. Her one mission was to reach the part where it talks about him.

Josh Washington.

Her boyfriend, and first love, who, unfortunately, was partially responsible for the mayhem that occurred on that mountain. He was also left there, to fend for himself in a serious time of need. Josh hadn't been taking his scheduled medication for weeks up until his final breaking point on Blackwood, as surprise to everyone around him who cared for him. The lack of stability in his mind had caused him to panic and conspire against all of his friends who had made a mistake that resulted in the death of his two older siblings, Hannah and Beth, exactly one year before.

He had set up not-so-harmless pranks that took a turn for the worse when they were attacked by a hoard of Wendigos, Native American spirits, who inhabited the mountain. The article would had most likely never touch on that subject, to Bo's suspicion.

Her finger swiped on the screen one last time, before resting on Josh's school photo that was pictured. Underneath it was a line of small print that read 'Terrorist of Blackwood Mountain'. Bo's jaw dropped slightly in disbelief.

Josh Washington was not the true 'terrorist'. It was the Wendigo spirit that haunted that forest. The spirits that hurt Jessica, killed the friendly chainsaw man, and kidnapped Josh, himself. What Josh did was a petty crime compared to the injustice caused by those damn spirits.

She read more, much to her own disappointment. She was hurt by the way both the article and her friends had twisted the story around to make it seem like it was all his fault.

"Why..." Bo tried to formulate words as her bottom lip quivered. Her mother had peered over to see what part of the story she was on.

"I don't know, hon." She side hugged her, resting her head on top of Bo's. "We should had told you to stay away from that boy, but we didn't see anything wrong with him-"

"There's nothing wrong with him!" She snapped, removing herself from her mother's embrace. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes squinted into a glare, spilling the tears that were formulating in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks with a furious heat. Bo's mom stared back at her in surprise, speechless at her argument. "Josh- He's not a- a terrorist, or a monster, or any of it." Bo slammed the phone on top of her bed face down, so she could no longer see his face on her screen. She threw the covers off her legs and got up from her bed, stumbling to the stool as her vision blurred from the blinding headache she received from standing up so suddenly after barely moving for the past week.

Her parents didn't move from their spot and instead only watched Bo, carefully, as if she were a ticking time bomb. Her heartbeat raced into her throat, as she felt her anger rise up with it. She tried to control her temper, but failed, as sobs of frustration became to hard to resist.

"You weren't on that goddamn mountain, and neither was this stupid, goddamn news reporter-!"

"Language, Bo-Anne, honestly-"

"No, mom! You language!" Bo's crying became hysterical, as she gasped for breath in between sobs.

"Bo, you're not making any sense here-" Her father cut in again.

"Stay out of it, dad! Everyone just needs to mind their own business and stop intruding in my life." Bo brought her knees up to her chest as she sat on the stool, holding her hands over her face. "Why would they do that...?" She croaked out, her grief pouring out of her eyes in the form of steaming tears. She felt a pair of arms pull her up and into the frail frame of her mother, who gently hugged her. "Why would they make him sound like the bad guy. . .?" She struggled to communicate through her fits.

"I'm so sorry. . ." Her mother whispered into her ear, stroking her wildly curly hair, tenderly. "I'm so so sorry."

"He's not the bad guy. He's not-" She sucked in air again, squeezing her eyes shut in hopes it would take the pain away. "I just wanna go home. . ." She whined again. Her mother stretched her out and helped her get back into her bed, shifting back under the covers.

Bo's dad watched from afar as his daughter fell apart in front of him. He grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand and handed them over to his daughter, as his way of showing support.

Bo's eyes turned remorseful at the emotionless look he had on his face, not wanting her to read his true feelings. The sight of the pain his only daughter was going through had shred his heart to pieces.

She took the box from her dad's hands lightly, and sniffed.

"I'm sorry." She whispered out, looking down at her hands that played with the tissues. "I didn't mean to snap at you all like that."

They sat in an awkward silence, the parents, realizing that their mistake of pressing reality on their daughter too quickly had caused her outburst. A knock on the door had snapped them out of their haze, their heads turned, alert to the new guest who was about to arrive into Bo's room.

They all hoped for it to be the doctor telling Bo that she would be alright to leave, but unfortunately, it was not at all what they were expecting.

It was a young, asian man, in his early twenties, wearing a baseball hat and a dark green vest over a grey sweater. His smile was friendly, his movement into the room was rushed, as if he were nervous.

"Hello, are you the Tracy's?" His voice was higher pitched for a man, harmless and extroverted. "My name is Harley Ghim, I'm with Good Morning Canada?"

Her father reached his hand forward with a nod.

"Yes, I'm Lucas Tracy," he greeted, while shaking the young man's hands, "This is my wife Moriah, and my daughter Bo." He motioned towards each member of the family as he spoke. Harley gave them both friendly grins. Suddenly, a woman approached the opened doorway to the room, and forced a tight smile on her face. Her skin was a beautifully dark shade of mocha, and her eyes were like caramel. Her hair was curled to perfection, just like everything else about her. Perfect. However, she obviously wasn't as friendly as Mr. Ghim.

"Nice to meet you all." Harley Ghim greeted again, while politely stepped aside to allow his partner some room to enter. "This is Topanga North, she's also with Good Morning Canada."

"Hi." She made her quick announcement, handing the spotlight back to Harley.

"Is now a good time to talk?" He asked with a look of genuine concern. Bo's parents looked at each other, quietly exchanging unsure glances before turning to their bed-ridden daughter.

Bo crossed her legs over her covers, and nodded her head.

"Sure."

"Awesome!" The grin reappeared on Harley Ghim's face. "Well, we'd like the opportunity to air the story of the Blackwood Mountain Terror on live television." He admitted, "We came here to set up a time when we could interview you to get your side of the story."

"My side?" Bo furrowed her eyebrows together. "Why do you want my side?"

"We read the article in the local newspaper about you and your friends." Topanga spoke from beside Mr. Harley Ghim. "From what they've reported, you were there for practically the whole incident. Having your side of the story would reveal almost everything for everyone to know."

"I don't want everyone to know everything about what happened on that mountain." Bo's voice turned cold, as she looked down at her hands, her eyes, still red from crying earlier, narrowing on a point in between her fingers.

"Bo..." She heard her mother scold her quietly from beside her. She looked up over at her mother's embarrassed glance, before turning back to grill on the reporters that stood in front of her.

"I've seen what you air on your program. My side doesn't fit amongst your sunshine and rainbow world. If I were you, I would stay in your lane and find another story." She bore into their souls, her stare alone was warning them not to poke around in something as controversial as what had happened to her on Blackwood.

Topanga grew visibly irritated, her eyes narrowing to match Bo's expression. She opened her mouth to say something before Harley had grabbed hold of her wrist and gave Bo a wide, yet nervous, grin.

"Thanks, we totally understand, talk to you later, bye!" He rushed through his departure, pulling a surprised Ms. North out of the hospital room. Once the door was closed, the Tracy's could hear their argument begin outside of their room.

"Bo-Anne. That was very rude of you." Her mother turned to lecture her again. "They were only trying to help tell your story."

"My story doesn't need to be told, mom." She snapped back, still staring at the door, her face showing no more emotion. "There's no possible way that any news anchor, or lawyer, or reporter in the world could ever describe what happened to us."

"Yes, you keep saying that, but you've never opened up to anyone ever about what you went through!" Her mother's tone began to rise. "You always push it away, or change the subject! And why, Bo-Anne? Don't you want to get better? Don't you want to move past this? There's so much left in your life and you're going to let this eat you up before you can even enjoy it?"

"Mom," Bo's breathing quickened, trying to control all the emotions she was feeling. Her eyes and nose stung, withholding more cries.

"All we want is to help you, Bo, and you pull this shit every time! Why can't you just stop moping around about it and fix yourself because you're really starting to bother me. Nothing we say works, you just sit there and feel sorry for yourself and I'm sick of it!"

"You're sick of it?" Bo yelped out. "You're sick of it?!" She straightened her back, sprawled her legs out so she wasn't sitting on them anymore. "It's hardly been a week, mom, give me a goddamn break!"

"Bo," her father took a step forward, crossing his arms over his chest, "Your mother is kind of right, I mean...we're only trying to help you, it would be better for all of us if you just accepted it. It is kind of like you don't want to get healed from this."

Bo was at a loss for words. She didn't know what to say, or how she could convey her frustration with throwing an absolute fit. She wanted to scream, and cry, and throw things as hard as she could against the wall. Her body was devastated from the hard-hitting words of her parents. Instead, she stared at her lap, and played with her fingers. Silent streams of tears flowed down her cheeks, the light at the end of the tunnel, where her hope belonged, was diminishing.

The path to Bo's home was one that she had walked upon many times, and had never thought anything about it. However, she was finding it hard to take another step towards her house after getting out of her parent's car.

Her emotions were scattered, no longer sure how to feel about any of it. Every moment from now on would be bittersweet until she learned to move past the Blackwood Mountain tragedy. Part of her didn't want to, she knew that. Just like her parents had insinuated before in the hospital during their argument.

A chill from the weather interrupted her thoughts, making her shoulders shake in response to it. She was still fragile to the cold, even after being treated for her hypothermia. Bo took a deep, crisp, and cold breath before willing herself to move forward. She took comfort in the familiarity of the white picket fence and the dark green, vinyl siding that decorated her home.

Bo's father wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leading her back up to the porch. The white arches that held up the roof of their porch loomed over her, as they neared the door. Her mother played with her keys, and opened the door with a small smile, forgetting about their dispute only hours before. They were all just happy to be reunited back at home. Bo couldn't had spent another minute in that hospital.

"Welcome home, Bo-Anne." Her mother's voice was tender, and warm, as she flipped on the light switches to illuminate their beautiful place. Bo managed a smile, without baring her teeth, as she entered, walking through the doorway and into the living room in front of her. She flopped down on her father's reclining chair and her smile widened, taking in the smell of leather.

"Making yourself comfortable again, I see." Her dad teased. "In my chair."

"The best chair in the house." Bo giggled, situating herself so she was sitting normally in it, resting her arms on the sides.

"Are you hungry, Bo-Anne?" Her mother had wasted no time in making her way to the kitchen that was behind Bo in the recliner. She spun the chair around to face her mother who was standing next to the wooden island, opening up an overhead cupboard.

"What do we got?" Bo was convinced enough to get up off her chair. Her father raced by her and took back his seat. She yelped, almost getting wiped out by him as he laughed at her. She really enjoyed the goofy side of her father, reminding her where she got that trait from in the first place.

"Well, I can make some noodles? Or cut up some lettuce for salads?" Her mom suggested. Bo tip toed towards the bar stools that lined the island and scooted herself onto one.

"Noodles." Bo demanded with a nod of her head. Her mother gave her an expecting look.

"Noodles...?"

"Noodles, please." She corrected herself.

"Much better." Her mother gave her a grin, and tapped her nose with her finger. Bo smiled back and watched as her mother worked around the kitchen, grabbing the pot and pouring water into it from the sink. "Hey, do me a favor, would you?" She stopped in her place and turned towards Bo, who had preoccupied herself with the newspaper. The headlining article was obviously about Blackwood Mountain. She looked up from the article with eyebrows raised. "Go check the answering machine while I make this, let me know if anything important comes up."

"Sure thing." Bo drummed a quick rhythm on the counter before hopping off the stool and walking past her father in the living room. A hallway leading to their rooms and her father's study was just up ahead. She took a left and opened the door, revealing her dad's office space, complete with a desk, computer and bookshelves-galore. She sat down in the black office chair before pushing off with her feet, sending the chair rolling to the other side of the room, where the home phone line was.

She punched the "read recording" button with her pointer finger.

"You have 15 messages." The robotic voice of the answering machine rang out. Bo rolled her eyes, and pressed the button that would play them all out.

"Hello, this is Natalie Grossmeier from Alberta Post, I'd like to set up a time to speak with a Ms. Bo-Anne Tracy, if you'd be interested in us writing an article on her. Anyways, give me a call back when you can, I look forward to possibly working with you on this story. Buh-bye!"

Bo deleted that message quickly and moved onto the next.

"Hi, I hope I have the right number here for a Bo Tracy? My name is Andrew Stone, I work as an editor for Canada Weekly. If it's not too much trouble, we'd like to interview you for an article? Call me back at the number here, and we'll set up a time to meet up. Alright, see ya."

Next.

"Good afternoon, this is Alex Stanchfield from Fox 111 Nightly, I'm here to give a 'Bo-Anne Tracy' an invitation to come on the show and give us a testimony on her crazy experience down at Blackwood Mountain. She's more than welcome to bring a friend along with who experienced it too, the more the merrier, hahaha! So please call back-."

She deleted the message without a second thought. For another couple minutes, she went through the agony of filtering out important recordings and the invitations she received to publicize her 'testimony'. Frustration was quick to set in as she rolled past advertisement after advertisement, all asking for her.

Bo unplugged the answering machine from its outlet, while another news anchor from Minnesota was mid-sentence. However, she was surprised to continue to hear the same recording.

"Ugh!" She cried out and used her arm to swipe the machine off the tabletop entirely. "Stupid battery backup." She cursed to herself, and leaned back on the desk chair.

"Deleting all recorded messages." The robotic voice returned. Bo let out a sigh of relief. "One new recorded message."

"What now!?"

"Hi, Ms. or Mr. Tracy, it's Chris. . . Bo's friend. Just checking in again to see if she's back from the hospital, and if she is, then could you have her call me back? We're planning a surprise party for her! Thanks and goodbye-."

Bo pushed off the chair again and rocketed towards the phone that was on her father's desk. She lunged for the telephone and placed it to her ear.

"Chris!"

"Oh, hey, Bowie!" His voice perked up from the other end. She could hardly contain her smile from hearing her friends voice again. After a couple of days, school had begun again and most of the group were ready to get back to their studies, so she missed her visitors. "Just in time, I was just about to end the call. You back from the hospital? How are you feeling?"

"Yeah, I'm back now. My temperature has normalized itself and my flu like symptoms are all gone so I'm doing alright." She swirled around in her chair, the cord wrapping itself around her, and unwrapping as she changed direction.

"That's awesome, Bowie! We missed you a lot over here at school. You really don't know how much someone contributes to the group until you all go through a traumatic experience together." He teased, with a hearty chuckle.

Bo didn't laugh.

"Sorry, that wasn't funny." Chris cleared his throat. "Anyways, you probably heard me already talk about the surprise party we're throwing for you. . ."

"What? You're throwing a surprise party for me?" She widened her eyes and made it sound like she never heard Chris's recording.

"Ah, shit!"

"I'm totally just playing. I heard, yeah." She admitted, giggling lightly. She heard him sigh in relief on the other side. "That's sweet of you, Chris."

"It's the least we could do. We were thinking of doing it tomorrow night at Jess's place. We wanted to give you some time to adjust back home with your parents."

"Okay. That works."

"Awesome! Everyone will be there around 7 pm!"

"Alright. I'll be there at 7:30." She teased.

"Please don't tell anyone else I told you about it! I was gonna come up with a plan with your parents so you'd be surprised, but then you answered the phone. So just. . . act like you're surprised."

"Got it, Captain." She lowered her voice and saluted the air, even though she was on the phone and there was no need for dramatic gestures.

"I can practically see you saluting on the other side." Chris tried to joke, but it came off too real. Bo grew silent, and her eyes widened again in surprise. "You were really saluting, weren't you?" He broke the silence.

"Are- Are you staring through my window?" She furrowed her eyebrows together, as she moved one of the sheer curtains covering the window next to the desk.

"No! It just seemed like a very 'Bo Tracy' thing to do." Chris laughed at her. "If I may speak so soon, it's the kind of charm that someone like Josh would fall for."

Another silence fell upon the line. Bo sunk down in her seat, her face dropped at the mention of his name.

"Yeah. . ." She finally breathed out.

"I'm sorry, I just...I had to say it."

"No, it's okay." She perked up again, realizing that she had made Chris feel bad about it. "Josh isn't Voldemort, Chris." She looked down at the ground.

"I know, I know." He sighed again. "It's just...it's just hard. If I feel this terrible about it, I can't imagine the pain you're going through, Bo, I'm-"

"Chris." She tried to stop him. If he kept on talking about it, she knew it would upset her and she would break down in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I really am. There isn't any amount of apology I can give you that feels like it's enough. I shouldn't had let the group toss him around like that-"

"Chris-." Her eyes began to water with the overwhelming feeling of heartbreak that was resurfacing with his apology.

"If I had stuck up for him, I could had maybe convinced everyone to understand him. The more I think about it the more I see everything I ever did wrong in that situation-"

"Chris! It's okay!" She raised her voice, in a gentle and comforting way. Bo couldn't hear him go in the spiral of emotions he was going down. She realized that he had felt just as responsible as she had. "I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone. No one saw this coming, no one had even suspected a thing."

She heard Chris let out a small sniff, revealing that he had been tearing up on the other end.

"I'm sorry, Bo."

"I'm sorry, too, Chris."

They both couldn't think of anything else to say. The only sound for a while was the sorrowful silence they were going through.

"Sorry about that." Chris repeated again. "I'll see you tomorrow at 7:30, right?"

"Right." Bo wiped her runny nose with her grey sweatshirt sleeve. "Right, I'll see you then."

"Okay."

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't... don't dwell too much about it, okay? Promise me you won't do that." She demanded to hear it from him, himself.

"I promise."

"Thank you." Bo closed her eyes and leaned back in the desk chair, before opening them again, and lookin out the window at the sun setting over the trees that lined her property, setting them apart from her neighbors. The orange sun painted a picture among other pinks and purples. A beautiful sight. "I have hope." She spoke softly.

"What was that?" Chris asked.

"Look out a window, right now." She ordered. Bo could hear him shuffling around whatever room he was in.

"Okay, I'm looking."

"Now look at the sun, setting over the horizon."

"I see it."

"You see it. And I see it, too." Bo's eyes glistened over with the beauty of the nature beholding in front of her. "I have faith that Josh is looking at that same sun. That he's alive on Blackwood Mountain and he'll make it back home."

"Bo, that's not possible, you know that."

"Well," Her voice remained soft, not growing in anger. "If everything is possible, then there's no need for faith, Chris."

"I guess so." He sat quietly on the other end again. "See ya, Bo."

"See ya." She repeated, before hearing his line go dead. Without taking her eyes off the sun, she put down her phone.

Holding onto her faith, she got up off the chair and walked closer to the window, watching now as stars appeared in the darkness above the brilliant colors. Closing her eyes, she wished for a sign, any kind of sign, that would confirm her hopes.

•••

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." He struggled to come up with the words, as he sang softly to himself. He sat with his back up against the rock wall, staring out into the waterfall he hid behind, that lead into an eery lagoon.

"Happy birthday, dear Bowie..." he couldn't finish, letting out a muffled cry. He covered his face with his hands that were already wet with tears, and brought his knees to his chest, as the familiar screams of those who terrify him echo amongst his surroundings.

Thank you all so much for supporting the sequel to "No More"! It means a lot, and I hope for your continuous support through the rest of the chapters.
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And I'll see you in the next chapter <3